Coincidental Fate
by Tamaraw
Summary: The perfect Gryffindor was put into Slytherin! Will anything happen between her and the Slytherin Prince? And will she know when she has crossed the line between coincidence and fate? [DracoOC, HarryGinny, HermioneOC, RonLuna]
1. One night, it all began

**A/N: hi! Tami here! This is my 1st fan fic, and all comments are welcome......... Thanks! By the way, rating may change, but it's set on PG-13, just to be safe...**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

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A sharp scream pierced the chilly night air, and the dull pounding of running footsteps ceased. A flash of green light blazed, momentarily illuminating the silent grove of trees near the forest entrance. The bundle of cloth in the woman's arms fell as she hit the ground, rolling out of sight under a tree, as a high, cruel laugh rent the silent night air, echoing eerily thru the trees. The swish of cloth was heard, sending the grove into silence. Then suddenly, thunder cracked, and the baby began to cry as it started to rain.

****

9-year-old Tammara woke up with a gasp and sat up in her bed. She'd been having that dream again, and she was sure that that pop she heard wasn't just a dream either. She looked around in a panic. All the other children lay fast asleep on their beds, their faces peaceful and calm. Tammara sighed, and couldn't help but feel that, in some way or another, she was not like the other kids. She had known it ever since. The only one who ever seemed to actually understand her was Amy, her best friend. She scanned the room again. Everything was the same, up to the cracks on the orphanage ceiling and the dirty white curtains fluttering in the partly open windows. She sighed with relief and turned over, going back to sleep. Not seeing the man who climbed out of the darkness outside her window, scanned the room, and then vanished with a soft _crack_.

****

"Tammara Monique! Get up, matron's looking for you!!!" a voice called, and Tammara felt her shoulder being shaken.

"Amy, I'm up, I'm up!" she said, pulling herself into a sitting position and rubbing her eyes.

"Matron's looking for you!" Amy repeated, pulling her to a bathroom at one end of the long room.

"Why's matron looking for me?" Tammara asked as she was being dragged along by Amy.

'Please... let it be someone...' she prayed as she washed her face and brushed her hair and teeth.

"I don't know why, but I know that Matron's gonna get mad at ya if you don't get that butt movin'!"

"Amy!"

****

The giggling girls rushed out to the hallway, stopping at a big door with a big brass plaque, reading 'Matron Amelia Fox'.

"Good luck to ya, Tammi!" Amy said, reading the hopeful expression in Tammara's eyes and squeezing her hand, before skipping down the hall, with many a backward look at her friend. Tammara sighed, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door timidly.

****

**A/N: well, that's it for this chappie! Please go and click the little purple button with the letters GO found at the bottom of the screen... Thanks!**

**TaMi**


	2. Adoption and a Scar of her own

**A/N: I'm so so so so sorry this took so long... I'm swamped with homework!!! Anyway, thank you to Hyacinthblue and to PhsycoChick991 for reviewing... I promise to make it longer and I'm glad you like it...**

**Anyway, here's chapter 2!!!**

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Tammara woke with a gasp and sat up, her left hand flying to her neck, slender fingers tracing the thin, smooth scar which ran an inch on her creamy peach skin. It was small enough not to be seen unless scrutinized, yet big enough to be felt. It had prickled unpleasantly a few minutes before, she was sure of it. The pain had since subsided, though.

'15 years...' she thought, massaging it absentmindedly. 'I've had this for 15 years of my life, since I was a year old, and I don't even know where I got it... Now, I'm sure Mom or Dad has mentioned this once or twice before... but what was it they said?'

She racked her mind, trying to remember, but it was too early in the morning for her to think straight. Just then, she felt a small weight on her shoulder and she adjusted the heart-shaped locket that lay there, bringing it down to the middle once more.

She opened the small locket and looking at the pictures inside, illuminated by moonlight streaming through a nearby window. 'My real parents... I miss them...' she thought, gazing at the people she had never had the pleasure of knowing.

'I'll ask Mom in the morning...' she yawned and lay down again, sleep soon overtaking her. 'In the morning...'

****

**_Jeanne Blair's Flashback_**

The door opened and the young girl stepped in, rather timidly, head held down. My husband and I looked at her. Was this the girl that we were to adopt, on Dumbledore's instructions and that of the Order? I admitted to myself, she didn't look like anything special; she looked like any other orphan girl we had seen that day. Yet according to Dumbledore, she was the one.

Just then, my husband's voice sounded in my head. We were both accomplished at Celiniency _(A/N: I made that up, hope you understand)_, which allows two people to speak into each other's minds, and had used it on numerous occasions to end marital feuds.

'What do you think of her?'

'She looks just like Anne... but that might be my imagination...'

The Headmistress of the orphanage, Miss Fox, called the girl, who stepped forward and stopped near the table, giving Mark and me a small "good morning". Mark smiled at her, and I did too.

"You sent for me, ma'am?" she asked the Head, looking nervously up, her hand clutching a small gold locket. My heart skipped a beat.

'That's a sign, Mark!' my thoughts conveyed my jolted feeling.

'That's the locket, isn't it, that one that had her parents' pictures in it?'

'We'll just have to see.'

''Tammara," Ms. Fox told the small girl, who looked, I could see, anxious, yet she had a clear aura of hopefulness about her that just made my heart soar.

"Tammara, these are Mr. and Mrs. Blair." Ms. Fox said, gesturing first to Mark then to me.

We smiled and Mark reached out his hand. The small girl took it and smiled shyly.

She then turned to Ms. Fox.

"Are- Are they here to-" she couldn't continue, but her face shown with hope and happiness as she looked up at the headmistress.

Ms. Fox smiled and nodded her head kindly. Tammara gasped and started to cry, running to me and giving me a big hug. I hugged her back, and heard her happy gurgles flow out into my shoulder, along with her tears.

My heart melted, and I tightened my grip around her, until her tears started to stop.

"I'm very sorry, ma'am." she told me, pulling away and wiping her face sheepishly on the handkerchief I handed to her.

"Guess you're going to have to change that to MOM now..." I replied, pulling her into another hug. She hugged me back, and I could feel joy radiating from her. All I could do was smile as I felt MY eyes starting to water. This truly was one of the happiest moments of my life.

'I agree wholeheartedly.' Mark's voice sounded in my head.

I looked at him over our daughter's shoulder, and I could see his eyes shine, tears threatening to break free, as he came and joined the hug.

We just stood there, hugging each other, for a long time, Ms. Fox smiling happily at us.

After a while, I let go of Tammara and sat down on my chair, next to Mark's, and pulled her on to my lap.

"Are- are you really going- going to adopt me?" Tammara cried, and all I could do was nod, tears falling freely from my eyes.

"May I- May I call you mommy?" she asked, upon seeing me cry, she hurried on.

"I've always wanted to call someone mommy, but if you don't want me to, I can always call you something else..." she stopped, and looked at me, as if terrified that I had been insulted.

My heart went out to this little girl. If only she had know how much she looked like her mother. _(A/N: you'll find the full story later... just give it time... just give me time...)_

'I miss Anne and Scott dreadfully, she looks an awful lot like Anne...' Mark's voice came, tinged with sadness.

'We can't tell her. Remember what Dumbledore said. _WE CAN'T TELL HER_!' I shot back, hoping he got the message. Meanwhile, I turned to Tammara.

"Of course you can call me mommy, love." I told her, and stroked her cheek, wiping away a stray tear.

She giggled and leaned over to hug Mark. As she did, I heard her sigh happily.

"I always wanted to have a mommy and daddy..."

****

**A/N: I just love these author's notes, don't I? hahaha... anyway, that's it for now. Please bear with the suspense and stuff, but I'm making sure not to rush this story. I hate rushed stories. Anyway, the story will unravel all in due time... Now, please click the little purple button at the bottom of the screen, and review! Tell me what you think and if you like it or not! Flames, criticism, praise, anything is welcome! Just tell me the truth... Oh, don't hesitate to ask questions... I'll readily answer them... Thanks again!**

**TaMi**


	3. Fights and Nightmares

**A/N: hello all!!! Tami here.... Sorry that this took so long, I'm kinda on a parentally imposed computer ban... This has been typed secretly... hahaha... anyway, hope this is long and interesting enough...**

"Tammara Andrews..." a low, ghostly voice rasped, "I know where you are, Tammara..."

Tammara whimpered and turned over uneasily in her sleep. The voice in her head was cold, fluid, _serpentine_. It made her feel highly uncomfortable, and, though she knew, subconsciously, that it was only a dream, it scared her.

"I'm coming for you, Tammara..." the voice said. "I know you, and your parents, and your friends... I'm coming to torture you, Tammara, I'm going to make you wish you'd _die_... You're going to see your mudblood parents, soon, Tammara, you will see them _very _soon... Only a few moments after you see _me_..."

Then a high, spine-chilling, cruel laugh was heard, and Tammara woke up with a scream, crying and shivering.

Mark Blair rushed into his daughter's room. He hated it when she'd have nightmares, because, as she grew older and the dreams became more complex, it became harder and harder to keep the truth from her. Harder not to tell her that she was not an ordinary girl. Harder to convince her that the dreams weren't real. Harder to stop himself from dropping even the smallest hint about the wizarding world.

Tammara sat on her bed, hysterical and unintelligible, her breath coming out in ragged gasps, her hands clutching at the white sheets on her bed.

Mark took her in his arms and hugged her to him, just as he had when she was a child.

"Tammara, love, don't cry, tell me what's wrong..." he coaxed, but she continued babbling incoherently.

The only words he gathered in between terrified sobs were "Called me... called me Tammara Andrews... said that... that... he'd kill me... hurt me... that I'd see _him_ soon..."

She stopped, a fresh wave of fear and confusion washing out onto Mark's shoulder.

Mark's blood froze upon hearing her emphasis on the word _him_, and he only managed to choke out "See... see who, Tammara?"

"I... I don't KNOW!!!" and she broke down into his shoulder, and not another word could be understood from her trembling lips.

Later that night, when Tammara was safely and peacefully sound asleep in her bed, Mark paced around the master's bedroom, Jeanne watching him desperately from the edge of the bed. They didn't bother using Celiniency, because Tammara was asleep in her bed in the next room, but fought in whispers and hissing voices just the same.

"We have to tell her NOW, Jeanne!" he insisted, knowing that what they were discussing was not a matter to be trifled with.

"But Dumbledore--"

"I don't give a hoot about what Dumbledore said, we have to tell her!"

"She's not to know!"

"It's too late now!"

"We're to wait for Dumbledore's letter!"

"Do you think she's take it anymore kindly if we tell her then and not now?!"

"That's beside the point!"

"Look, Jeanne, the mind-probing is getting worse!"

"She takes them as nightmares only, no more!"

"But how long is it going to be before he takes her over, Jeanne, tell me that! How much longer are we going to sit here and tell the 'World's Light' that she's having nothing more than childish nightmares?!"

"Don't call her that! You're not to say it or even think it, Dumbledore said--"

"Don't bring him into this! We're raising her, and that old S.O.B is not!"

Jeanne gasped and stood up, her watering eyes slits of cold brown fury.

"Don't you talk about my uncle that way, Mark Jonathan Blair, don't you DARE talk about him that way!"

"I can talk about him any way I want!"

Jeanne had had enough, and walked into the walk-in closet in the master's bedroom with a sigh.

"That's it, Mark! This better end before I end up saying something we'd both regret..."

Jeanne shoved a thick blanket and a fluffy pillow into her husband's arms, pushing him to the door, where he turned.

"Whatever you say is not going to obscure the truth, Jeanne! And whatever the oh-so-mighty Dumbledore says--"

Jeanne's face took on such a look of fury and pain, Mark thought he had died and gone to Hell.

Jeanne silenced him with a resounding _SLAP _and pushed him out the door, barely a second before slamming it in his face.

She collapsed on the bed in tears, unable to understand how Mark could be so... unquestionably right...

In the next room, Tammara sat up in bed, flinching as she heard her parents argue. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but she could hear their hisses and whispers through their open door. The deeper voice was her fathers, she knew, and the higher, coaxing voice must be that of her mother.

Tammara was frightened, because this was the first time that she had ever heard her parents fight.

She sat on her bed, listening to her parents' angry whispers and hisses, and then she gasped at the loud slap that pierced the late-night tranquility, and the resulting tears that, she rightly guessed, came from her mother.

She sighed and tried to get some rest, but sleep evaded her that night.

Downstairs on the couch, Mark sighed, his anger long gone. Too late, he realized his mistake. Jeanne had always been one of those family-until-death types.

'That's what drew you to her when you first met her, remember? Her loyalty...'

He smiled in spite of himself, and rolled over on the couch, sleep soon overtaking him.

**A/N: hello again! Did you like it? Please review!!! Love ya guys!!! What I'd do without you... giggles **

**(O) TaMi (O) (these are koalas)**


	4. Unease and Strange Visitors

**A/N: ok, so here's chapter 4. This is slightly longer than what I usually write, and I hope that you like it… after you read this, please review… **

Tammara woke up and looked at the sunlight streaming in the open bay window. She saw butterflies fly past as she stretched and sat at the window, looking at the softly rolling morning clouds.

No matter how she tried, she couldn't help the growing unease that spread over her, not because of her steadily-growing-worse nightmares, but because of her parents' surreptitious arguing the night before. She had never heard them fight before, at least not with that intensity. She knew that all marriages had fights, but she also knew, with growing panic, that marriages were broken up even by the most trifling of arguments.

She had seen it all before. She remembered everything, down to the pink pyjama bottoms that she was wearing. She remembered how she had begged and begged Mark and Jeanne to allow her to go to that sleepover. She had been 11 years old, for goodness sake, and Chloe had lived only two houses away.

Two girls, huddled on the bed, as parents argued in the next room, not bothering whether they could be heard or not. Tammara's best friend, Chloe, crouched next to her, her hands over her ears, tears flowing down her face, and her whimpered cries of "I just want it to stop… Make it stop… please…" Then, the sound of a slap rent the air, doors slammed, and tortured sobs came from the next room, as the two girls lay huddled on the bed.

A week later, Chloe turned up on Tammara's doorstep, tired and scared, and she had a bag of clothes with her. She had asked to stay the night, and was immediately taken in.

Chloe's mum had been hospitalized due to massive injuries. She had to endure extensive reconstructive surgery on her face, and took months and months to heal. Chloe would not talk about what happened to her mother, only that 'she had slipped and fallen down the stairs'. Chloe's father, on the other hand, disappeared without a trace. In the end, Chloe had moved with her mother to America, and Tammara hadn't seen her since.

Tammara jerked out of her reverie and swiped at the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes.

"I'll never let that happen!" she vowed to herself, and hoped that, somewhere, Chloe was safe.

She stepped into the shower and took a short bath, scrubbing herself thoroughly before stepping out and pulling a pair of jean shorts and a T-shirt out of the walk-in in her bathroom.

Exiting the bathroom, which adjoined her bedroom, she walked to the dresser and pulled a brush towards her, and began to brush her long straight black hair, the (natural) reddish brown highlights flashing in the morning sun.

Just then, a knock came, muffled by the thick oak door.

"Come in!" she called.

Jeanne opened the door and stepped in.

"Oh. You're up already…" Tammara grinned.

"Good morning to you too, mum!" Jeanne smiled as well.

"Hey, look, when you're done, come downstairs, there are some people I want you to meet."

Tammara looked at the clock on her dresser. It read 9:24.

"At this time, mum?"

"Never mind time… You'll like them, I promise…"

"Any of them my age?" Tammara asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.

"Three of them, actually."

"Ok, give me a few seconds…"

Jeanne left, and Tammara took a few seconds to put her hair into a high ponytail. She examined herself in the full-length mirror, then rushed into the bathroom to change into a pair of cut-offs.

"Ok. I'm presentable now." She thought to herself, and left her room, heading down the stairs.

Tammara headed down the stairs, and Jeanne met her, obviously on her way up. Jeanne looked slightly flustered, something Tammara immediately noticed.

"Mum, what's wrong?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing… Listen, love, whatever you think down there, about those people, please don't show it, alright? They want to talk to you, and it may seem a little fantastic, but I swear, on my life and Mark's, it's all true."

"But mom--"

Jeanne gave her a small kiss on the cheek.

"Just go, love. Good luck…"

Tammara made her way cautiously into the living room. Nothing seemed out of sorts though, except the 5 people in the room. They all stood up when she came in, and looked at her as curiously as she looked at them.

Tammara surveyed them warily. There was an old man, whose beard nearly touched the floor, a middle-aged woman, who, strangely gave out a 'don't mess with me; I'm lethal' aura, and three teenagers on the couch.

"Hi, I'm Tammara." She said, taking another step into the living room. "Mom said that you wanted to talk to me?"

"All in good time…" said the old man, rising from the squashy purple armchair near the fireplace.

'That's strange' Tammara thought. 'I don't remember seeing that armchair before…'

"Introductions first." He continued. "I'm Albus Dumbledore, but you can call me professor Dumbledore, and this is Minerva McGonagall, who you may also call professor."

"Hi…" Tammara said cautiously, moving to shake their hands. "I'm Tammara."

'These are strange people… And, ALBUS DUMBLEDORE? What kind of name is that?! I mean, really…' she thought to herself.

"And these," Professor Dumbledore kept on, gesturing to the teens on the couch, who had stood up self-consciously, "I'll let them introduce themselves to you, then…"

There was a slim girl with wavy brown hair, and two guys.

The redhead looked gangly and he was nearly all limbs and flaming red hair.

"I'm Ron Weasley," he said, his ears turning red to match his hair.

The other two laughed.

"Ron!" the girl said, elbowing him in the ribs. He swatted her hand away sheepishly.

Turning to Tammara, the girl introduced herself. "I'm Hermione Granger!" she said. "Y' know, I've a feeling, we're going to be such good friends… Know what, my favourite subject is Maths, what's your favourite subject? Hey, do you like reading? I LOVE reading, I could just sit and read all day! What's your favourite book? I'm not sure what mine is though, I like way too many books to choose just one… What's your favourite animal? Oh, do you have a pet? You know, I just love cats! I have a cat named Crookshanks myself, beautiful marmalade cat, absolutely adorable, and very friendly." She said this all very quickly, but cut herself off when the redhead muttered something under his breath, something that sounded like "friendly my--"and the girl shot him a death glare.

"So, anyway…" she took a deep breath and extended her hand. "Hi, I'm Hermione."

Tammara took an instant liking to that Hermione girl. She was inquisitive without being simpering, and friendly without reserve.

"_All right_, Hermione…" said the other boy, who had so far been gazing amusedly at the actions of his friends.

He looked at Tammara, and extended his hand. "I'm Harry Potter."

"Nice to meet you." Tammara said, shaking the offered hand. She took a milli-unnoticeable-second to look him up and down, as she had done to the redhead. Messy jet black hair, glasses, tall lean frame. Totally regular teenager, except for the eyes… There was something mysterious about his eyes. They looked almost… almost _old…_

Tammara shook herself suddenly, bringing herself back to reality.

"So…" she said, as everyone took their seats once more.

"There was something you wanted to tell me… um, Professor?"

**A/N: yup, that's chapter 4. Please tell me whether you like it or not by clicking the little purple button and telling me your opinion.**

**That's it till next time!!! Thanks! **

**TaMi**

**A/N2: please tell me in your review if I should put disclaimers at the start of every chapter or not… Thanks!!! **


	5. Witches and Fat Cats

**A/N: nothing much to say, here's chapter 5…**

"You wanted to talk to me… um… Professor?"

Dumbledore sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. It wasn't going to be easy for her to learn that for 15 whole years, her life had been one big lie…

"First of all, Tammara, I think that this belongs to you…" he said, picking up the fat marmalade, black-socked cat which had walked into the room.

Tammara took the purring ball of fur into her arms. "Everyone… this is Meowiana…" Tammara announced to the room, holding up one fat, friendly pussy-cat.

"Oh, she's gorgeous!" Hermione gushed. "May I hold her?"

"Sure…" Tammara passed Meowiana over to Hermione, and the cat contentedly went to sleep in the girl's arms.

"How old is she?"

"Three years old, I got her for my thirteenth birthday… you should have seen her, she looked like an orange and black ball of fairy floss… all fuzz, for goodness' sake… cutest thing in the world…"

"Aaaaw… sweet!!! Hey, I got my cat, Crookshanks, when I was thirteen too!"

"Really?"

"Yup… and he's orange, or marmalade, as some people say too… strange coincidence, isn't it…"

"You said it…"

"But anyway, there was this time…"

Dumbledore cleared his throat… it would be better to get it over and done with…

"Excuse me, girls…"

Both girls started, apparently, they were caught up in talking and had forgotten the other people in the room.

"Sorry, professor…" Hermione said sheepishly.

"Now, Tammara, May I ask, no matter how incredulous you might become, that you refrain from throwing things at people…" his eyes twinkled a luminous pale blue.

"I- I won't…" she said, wondering whether they were playing a trick on her. She looked back, confusedly, at the people in the living room. When she looked at Dumbledore, she grew scared, for his eyes no longer smiled, and his countenance was sad. He sighed and began.

"It all started 18 years ago, Tammara, on the 16th of January. Do you know what happened on that day?"

"N-no, I have no idea…"

"That was your parents' wedding day."

"No, Jeanne and Mark were married on--"

"Not the Blairs, Tammara… your real parents, _Anne and Scott Andrews_."

Tammara jumped and her eyes grew large. She had never told anyone that she was adopted. Only Mark and Jeanne knew…

"How-- who-- but-- I-- I never--" she stuttered, looking around from one face to the next in abject fear.

"Tammara, Tammara… calm down…" Dumbledore soothed. "Let me resume, and you will understand…"

"But-- _how_ did you know?"

"I know because I knew your parents, both sets of parents. They were in the Order, as I was, and still am, may I add."

"The Order?! Is that some kind of cult or something?"

"No, my dear, it is an alliance."

"That's what they always say!" she shot back sardonically.

"No, let me tell you. This is the truth, I swear it on my life, and on that of everyone in this room."

Tammara didn't answer. She was wondering where all of this was leading.

"Look, Tammara, this will explain it."

Dumbledore handed her a sealed envelope, which bore a crest, stamped in wax, at the back. She flipped it over, unopened, and read:

"Tammara Andrews Blair, the white armchair, the living room, 23 Princeton Drive, Surrey, England."

"What the--? How'd you--?"

"You can do it too, you know…" Hermione broke in. "It's only the simplest of spells…"

"What the heck is this? Some kind of sorcery?! And what do you mean, _You can do it too_?"

Dumbledore sighed.

"Don't you get it, Tammara?" he paused.

"You're a witch…"

Everyone in the room fell quiet for a while, then Tammara broke the silence.

"Excuse me?! You're nice!" she, insulted, said sarcastically. _(A/N: usually, when you're called a witch, it means that you are mean or that you're ugly… or both… that's what Tammara thought.)_

The teenagers laughed. She turned and gave them looks of pure hatred so Harry hastily explained.

"Not _that_ kind of witch… _this_ kind…"

Then he turned to Hermione, who put a still-sleeping Meowiana on the couch and stood up.

"Would you do the honours, Hermione?"

She looked to Dumbledore, who nodded.

Tammara watched in fearful fascination as Hermione took a slender piece of wood out of her pocket, and pointed it at the sleeping cat.

With a swishing movement, a flick of her wrist, and a whisper, the cat sailed gently through the air and landed next to Tammara, who clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle a shriek.

"But-- you-- how-- I--" she stuttered, looking back and forth from Hermione to Meowiana and back again.

"Standard Book of Spells, chapter 4." Hermione murmured with a smile.

"What?!"

"It's a textbook title. 'Standard Book of Spells, Year 1' by Miranda… something or other… I can never remember authors' names…"

The boys sniggered and Hermione shot them a death glare. They shut up and cleared their throats.

Tammara was now over her initial fright, and she found that she was rather interested in hearing what they had to say.

"Ok, so I'm a witch…" she said, deciding to play along in what she was sure was only a game.

"What does this 'Order' thing, or anything else for that matter, have to do with me?"

Dumbledore sighed.

"One night, in July 1988, a prophecy was made."

"Surely, you don't believe in that nonsense!" both girls cut in at the same time, and then cleared their throats sheepishly, apologising.

Dumbledore smiled at both of them.

"no… this prophecy is true, Tammara. And, Hermione, one would think you believe in prophesies now, especially after that little adventure earlier this year at the Ministry…"

"Oh, yeah…" Hermione said, blushing scarlet.

"So, anyway Tammara, like I was saying…"

**A/N: CLIFFIE!!! LOL. Really sorry guys, but I believe that cliffies are useful once in a while… please keep up the great reviews… here's a deal… no reviews, no updates… Deal?**

**Hahaha… Love ya guys!!!**

**TaMi**


	6. Pensieves and Voices

**A/N: ok, well, thanks to the people who reviewed. For the reviewer who mentioned the title, I've checked, and it is spelt right, and it is meant to be that way, but thanks for caring…**

**And to the reviewer who mentioned cat genetics, I wouldn't be surprised if you were my former teacher… anyway, my reckoning is: thanks for the cat tip, but I reckoned, magic world, magic cat…**

**THANKS AGAIN!!! And now here's chapter 6!**

Tammara couldn't get to sleep that night, the memories of that day were too distressing to ignore, and they kept playing themselves over and over again in her mind.

_**Flashback**_

"Let's start at the very beginning, Tammara…" Dumbledore spoke.

She nodded mutely.

"A prophecy was made one cold night, quite a long time ago, in a village pub called Hog's Head, in Hogsmeade village. It concerns the key which will end the Great War and determine the fate of both the wizarding and muggle worlds." He paused, as she looked on expectantly, as if waiting for a further explanation.

"Ok… so what does all this have to do with me?"

"My dear girl!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed. "**You** are the key. You are the one thing that determines the fate of all mankind!" (_A/N: melodramatic, aren't I?_)

Tammara froze momentarily, and then burst out.

"WHAT?! What do you mean, I determine the fate of mankind?! Why me?! I'm-- I'm just an ordinary girl! I'm as normal as Ron is, or Hermione is or Harry is! I--"

"But Harry isn't as normal as you think, Tammara…" Dumbledore smiled, cutting off her rambling.

Tammara felt a shiver run up her back. If he wasn't normal, what was he? Was he an alien or a ghost or something?

She turned to look at him, and noticed that his hand flew to his forehead, flattening his hair over what seemed like… a scar… and blushing red as well.

"Sir, did you have to put it _that_ way?" he mumbled, while the other two choked back giggles.

"He's not dead or anything, is he?" Tammara asked, turning pale.

At this, the red hear burst out laughing.

"Harry? Dead? Oh, that's bloody likely!"

Both girls shot him looks, anger on Hermione's part and fear on Tammara's, and he hastily apologized.

"No, Tammara, but, like you, Harry was mentioned in the prophecy."

"What prophecy?"

Dumbledore didn't answer; he was pulling out from his robes something that looked like a marble bowl, which was filled with luminous silver liquid.

"I'd rather show you than tell you, Tammara. Please come closer." He said, motioning her to move closer to the table where he had set the bowl.

"This is a pensieve, Tammara. You'll see what it does soon. Now, if you can wait… just a second…"

He drew out a thin rod, long and spindly, touching it to his temple and bringing away a silver thread, so much like his hair, and putting it into the bowl.

'The pensieve…' Tammara corrected herself, wondering what would happen next. Suddenly, she saw her face shimmering in the bowl.

"What the--?"

"Tammara, please step forward. Harry, you too."

Tammara and Harry stepped forward, nearer to the table.

"Now, both of you touch the surface of the pensieve. Oh, and there's no need to fear, Tammara, it won't eat you up or anything…" he added after a thought.

Tammara shivered. How had he read her mind?

She heard Harry's voice whisper from beside her. "One… Two… Three!"

And together, they touched the surface of the liquid.

As soon as she touched the fluid, she felt her head start to spin and suddenly, she was sucked into the bowl. At least, that's what it felt like…

When she and Harry landed, she noticed that they seemed to be in a bar. A really dirty, smelly bar.

"This must be a tavern…" Tammara thought.

"Tammara," Harry's voice interrupted. "This is the Hog's Head, where that prophecy was made… the one Dumbledore was talking about…"

"Ok…" she nodded, as she took in her surroundings. "Won't all these people see us?"

"No." Harry said, grabbing her hand and pulling her after him, squeezing in between tables and chairs. "This is Dumbledore's memory. We can't be seen or heard. We're in it, and we have to find him." He said, scanning across the room.

"There he is!" Tammara pulled on Harry's hand. "There, I saw him go into that private room."

"Run! Quick!" Harry said, sprinting toward the door, and pulling Tammara with him. And not a moment too soon, they got into the door right before Dumbledore pulled it shut. They stood in a corner, watching the young witch who sat in a chair across from the old man.

"Professor Trelawney." Harry muttered under his breath.

"Who?" Tammara asked.

"Professor Trelawney." Harry repeated. "She teaches Divination."

"What?! Don't tell me you--"

"Shush!" he cut her off. "Listen."

"So, Ms. Trelawney--" Dumbledore started.

"Sybill, please." The woman cut in.

"Sybill, you are the granddaughter of celebrated seer Cassie Trelawney, are you not?"

"Cassandra, and yes, I am."

"What is your purpose to call this meeting tonight, Sybill?"

"I wanted to apply for the vacant teaching spot at your school, Professor Dumbledore."

"You do know that this subject matter requires the Inner Eye?"

"I do."

He paused. "Now, I know that the Inner Eye cannot see upon demand, but if you could…"

He stopped himself, for Sybill Trelawney had gone rigid in her chair, her eyes empty and unseeing.

Harry heard Tammara gasp from beside him.

"It's alright…" he reassured her.

"Sybill…" Dumbledore said, but she started speaking, not in the soft, high, fluttery voice she had had earlier, but a rough, low, shaky voice that made the hair on the back of Tammara's neck stand.

"_There is one…_" Sybill intoned. "_Born as the 7th month dies…_"

Suddenly, voices erupted in Tammara's head. She couldn't make out what they were saying, there were too many and they were all jumbled.

She gasped and felt Harry grab her shoulder.

"Tammara? What's wrong?!"

"Voices, in my head! I don't understand!"

"Understand what?" Harry's voice was concerned.

"All this!" she said, her hands clapping over her ears. Suddenly, as soon as they had come, the voices were silenced.

"Shhhh…" Harry coaxed putting his arm around her, and patting her on the back. "Let's finish the prophecy then we can get out of here."

She nodded and tried to listen.

"_He will be born as the 7th month dies… One will live as the other dies… One cannot live without the other's death…_"

"Voldemort." Harry muttered, his jaw hard and fists clenched.

"Who--?"

"wait… I'll explain it when we get out of here… Now listen… I think this is where you come in…"

Sybill continued. "_Yet, another shall be born, to aid the light and cast away the dark, one who is born as the 9th moon fades. She will grow, sheltered and naïve, unaware of her fate. Only for a brief moment shall she know those who gave her life, and her powers are beyond those of the sun, moon and stars combined. Yet only she can unleash the powers within… Powers that lie unknown even to herself…_"

Just then, the voices erupted again as Tammara felt herself being sucked out. She fell, rear end first onto the living room rug.

She was breathless and scared.

"What was all that?!" she cried out before bursting into tears and running out of the room.

**A/N: Ok, that's it… please tell me what you think… flames, constructive criticism, anything is welcome… just push the little purple button and tell me…**

**Thanks! Love ya guys!**


	7. Phone Calls and Bouncing Ferrets

**A/N: Hope everyone had a glorious Christmas! Before I start rambling, here's chapter 7!**

"Tammara!" Hermione called at Tammara's retreating form.

They watched her run out of the room, and winced as they heard a door shut loudly.

"Oh dear, Albus." Professor McGonagall sighed. "You shouldn't have done that!"

"I thought it was the best way, Minerva…" Dumbledore turned to Harry.

"What happened in the Pensieve, Harry?"

"Well, Professor--" Harry started, but was cut off by Jeanne and Mark, who had rushed downstairs upon hearing the frightened sobs they were hearing from Tammara's room.

"Albus, Minerva, what happened?" they asked anxiously.

"She… didn't take it so well, Mrs. Andrews…" Harry answered lamely, after a definite pause.

Jeanne sighed. "I guessed as much… I knew that we should have told her when she was younger… even just the tip of the iceberg would have been enough…"

Mark cleared his throat. "The fact remains… She knows part of the truth… the problem is whether she'll believe what she's been told or not..."

"I have given her the letter, Mark."

"But won't she dismiss it as part of a joke?" That was from Jeanne.

"A joke?" Ron cut in. "Didn't she see what Hermione did?"

"That's what she's thinking, Ron, that this is all a huge joke at her expense, and it _has_ been pretty much to handle for one day…"

"Since when could you read minds, Hermione?!" Ron asked, growing scarlet.

"Since last year, Ronald, ever since Harry needed practice after that little run-in with Voldemort in the ministry last year…"

Harry cut in. "please don't bring that up _again_, Hermione." He muttered.

"Like I was saying, Ron, I've been practicing, and perfecting, wand-less Legimency for quite sometime now… though, it does seem to come in unheeded at times… that isn't illegal, though…"

"It bloody well should be…" Ron muttered.

"And besides, Harry can do it too! Ron, if you have a problem, I suggest that--"

Harry cleared his throat, interrupting an eminent argument.

"Uh, guys, we have a more serious problem here! Hermione, how's Tammara?"

Hermione closed her eyes, concentrating. An image of Tammara, lying on her bed, facing the window, her tear-stained face, bloodshot eyes, and confused thoughts swirled around in Hermione's head.

"She's stopped crying… Professor--" this was to Dumbledore, "Maybe I could go upstairs, and maybe talk to her, try to make her understand… you know, girl to girl…"

"I think that's a very good idea, Hermione."

"But what about--?!" Ron squeaked but Hermione cut him off.

"_NO_, Ron, you and Harry can talk to her later!"

Ron scowled and leant back on the couch, while Hermione started up the stairs.

Tammara lay on her bed.

'This had to be a joke!' she thought to herself. Yet she herself highly doubted her reasoning.

Suddenly, her thoughts were shattered by knocking on the door.

_Knock, Knock, Knock_

"Tammara? It's Hermione… may I come in?"

Tammara sniffed. Strangely, she trusted Hermione, even though they hadn't even known each other for 5 hours yet.

"Y-- Yeah, it's open…" she managed, not looking at the door.

Hermione opened the door slightly and poked her head in.

"Wanna talk?"

Tammara just curled into a tighter ball on the bed. Hermione came and pulled up a chair near the bed.

"Y' know, when I first got my Hogwarts letter," she said, gently tracing the unopened seal of Tammara's letter with her fingers, having brought it up with her, "I was happy… 'coz I always felt like I was different from all my muggle friends, felt like I was special… in a way, you're lucky… you get to go into a world all your friends can only dream about…"

"What's-- What's a 'muggle' and what the heck is 'Hogwarts'?" Tammara asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

"A muggle is a person that can't do magic, and Hogwarts is a school for witchcraft and wizardry."

"Oh…k… So, I'm a muggle?"

"No, you're a witch, as we told you."

"So this is all real? I can really do magic and all that?"

"Yes, actually, though at first, it's really basic, and it takes getting used to…"

"So you can change people to frogs and all that?"

Hermione scoffed "Easy! In fourth year, this guy was turned into a white ferret! But you'll have to start small, matches to needles and that sort of thing…"

"Mad!" Tammara smiled, at the thought of one of her friends turning into a ferret.

"You mean ferret boy? Yup! And not only that, he was bounced up and down from floor to ceiling and back again! It was absolutely hilarious!"

"Didn't it hurt?"

"Of course it hurt! But he deserved it, arrogant little prat!"

"I take it he wasn't a friend of yours then…"

"Oh, Draco Malfoy's done nothing--" Hermione stopped to look over at Tammara, who seemed to be choking back laughter.

"S--Sorry Hermione, it's just that's his name's really queer… so, you were saying?"

"Yes, it is queer, isn't it? So, anyway, he hasn't done anything except make my life a living hell ever since first year."

"Why?"

"Because Malfoys are what are called 'purebloods', that means that the entire family line is composed of wizards and witches only. Many purebloods consider themselves better than muggle-borns, which are people that have non-magic parents, such as myself… A point of view that reminds me rather strongly of Adolph Hitler's idea of an Aryan race… Absolutely stupid and useless…"

"I agree. Isn't that a form of prejudice, like racism and all that?"

"Yes. Y'know, I'm so happy that you've warmed up to the idea that you are a witch, 'coz Dumbledore would've thrown a fit if you hadn't come to your senses…"

"I'm sorry about that little scene in the living room…" Tammara blushed crimson.

"It's all good, it's understandable… now, why don't you get your face cleaned up, and I'll get the guys up so you can get to know them better…"

"Sure…"

While waiting for Hermione to calm Tammara down, everyone else sat, rather anxiously, in the living room. Suddenly, the wall phone in the nearby kitchen rang, making all of them jump. Jeanne, excusing herself, exited the room and answered the phone.

"Hello? Blair residence." She answered cheerfully.

"HELLO?! JEANNE?!" Mrs. Weasley's voice carried over the phone line so loudly, she could be heard all throughout the room, and in the living room as well. Jeanne held the handset as far away from her ear as was humanely possible. At the sound of his mother's voice, Ron's face seemed to catch fire from his hair and he shrank into the chair.

"JEANNE BLAIR! IS THAT YOU?"

"Hello to you too, Molly… Now, calm down. There's no need to shout. I can hear you perfectly."

"OH, really? I'm so sorry for yelling like that, Jeanne, dear. It's just that I haven't exactly gotten used to this _fellytone _or whatever those muggles call it."

"That's alright. So, you wanted to speak to Ron, am I right?"

"Would you please be a dear and put him on? I'd be most grateful…"

"No problem, Molly."

She turned away from the phone and called into the living room.

"Ron, dear. Your mother wants to speak to you."

She handed him the phone as he walked into the room, mumbling apologies under his breath.

Jeanne smiled as she walked back into the living room.

A few minutes later, a still-blushing Ron emerged from the kitchen and looked at the 5 people in the room. _(A/N: Prof. Dumbledore, Jeanne, Mark, Prof. McGonagall, and Harry)_

"Sorry, everyone, but I've got to leave early…" he told them. "Mom wants my help at home, it's Bill's birthday. He's come over from Egypt, and we're kind of throwing him a surprise birthday party, so, if I may be excused... Sorry to leave you with them, Harry." He joked, before apparating with a pop.

**A/N: Well, that's it so far… I totally forgot whether or not people are given apparating licenses in their sixth year. They are allowed to here, since this is _my_ story, and sixth and seventh years are also allowed to use magic out of Hogwarts. **


	8. Quidditch Explanations and Connections

**A/N: As you read this, you might be wondering, why Tammara has such a large room… well, for one thing, she's an only child, and for another, she's got great parents… LOL…**

**Anyway, here's chapter 8… (gosh, they seem to flow, don't they?)**

Later on, when Tammara, Hermione, and Harry were seated, near a window, on bright beanbag chairs in a loft above Tammara's room, conversation broke out again.

"So, what's Hogwarts like?" Tammara asked.

"It's a castle, somewhere in England, and it's hundreds of years old." Hermione said.

"There are 4 houses," Harry continued, "And those are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin."

"So, are you three, you know, you, Harry, and Ron all in one house?"

"Yup." Harry and Hermione answered.

"We're in Gryffindor." Harry said. "Symbolized by a lion."

"The house is named after Godric Gryffindor, one of the four founders of Hogwarts." That came from Hermione.

"We've had our share of House Cups and Quidditch cups too." Harry, of course, said proudly.

"House and WHAT cups?"

"Quidditch cups." They both replied.

Tammara's expression was enough to tell them that she had no idea what they were talking about.

"You explain, Harry." Hermione said. "I'll just end up confusing us both!"

"Ok, Tammara… how do I explain this? You know what bubble wands are, right?" Harry asked.

Tammara nodded.

"And you know what basketball is, right?" still from Harry.

"Yeah, but what do bubble wands have to do with basketball?"

"No, just listen, Tammara. Quidditch is a sport played on broomsticks. It's like this: there are 7 players in each team: 3 Chasers, 2 Beaters, 1 Keeper, and a Seeker. Harry is the Gryffindor Seeker." That was Hermione.

"Now, the 3 Chasers are in charge of this big red ball called a 'Quaffle'. It's their job to shoot the Quaffle into these hoops perched on poles, that look like giant bubble wands, about 50 feet from the ground, to score. Rather like basketball…" Harry explained.

"So it's kinda like playing basketball on a broomstick?"

"Technically. But it isn't as easy as it sounds. That's where the Bludgers and Beaters come in."

"The what?"

"The Bludgers," Harry repeated, "which look like black bowling balls, except without the holes."

Tammara and Hermione laughed at Harry's choice of words.

"Anyway, Tammara, like I was saying…" Harry ploughed on after nudging Hermione playfully. "Bludgers try to knock people off their brooms."

"Isn't that dangerous, at that altitude?"

"Very dangerous. But it just adds to the thrill!"

"You think everything just adds to the thrill, Harry!" Hermione cut in.

"Wait, wait, so, let me get this straight. Chasers throw this big red ball, called the Quaffle, into 50-foot-high hoops, and Bludgers rocket around trying to knock people off their brooms… am I right?"

"That's exactly it, Tammara."

"Ok, I get that part. So you were saying something about 'Beaters'? Or something like that?"

"Yeah. There are 2 Beaters in a team. They each carry a bat, rather like a baseball bat, only smaller, and it's their job to keep the Bludgers away from their team by hitting them toward members of the opposite team." Harry stopped to breathe.

"Did that make any sense at all, by the way? Coz now I'm all winded…"

They laughed, and Harry continued to explain the different roles and rules in Quidditch.

After a while, there was another knock on the door.

"Come in, mum!" Tammara called.

Sure enough, the door opened and Jeanne came in, walking to the bottom of the loft's ladder.

"Tammara, honey, it's lunch time. I'm sure that you three can continue chatting up a storm after lunch… but before that, everybody down, and let's eat."

"Coming mum!" Tammara called as she started climbing down the ladder. "Come on, you two." She said to Hermione and Harry, who looked, at each other.

"You coming?" Tammara asked, already halfway down the ladder.

Harry looked at Hermione, and Hermione looked at Harry.

"Who cares, Hermione? She won't mind…" Harry said.

"I'm not too sure, Harry… she might fall off the ladder or something… That would be too much for one day…" Hermione sighed.

"Fine, let's wait until she's at the bottom of the ladder then…"

From the bottom of the ladder, Tammara's voice floated up. "What are you two fussing about? If you wanted to make out, just say so, you know, instead of leaving someone hanging…"

Harry and Hermione burst out laughing, but blushed just the same.

"No, Tammara, we _do not_ want to make out, but thanks for caring." Harry smiled down at her.

"But Harry here wants to do something else, and you might, well, let's just say that you might hurt yourself." Hermione looked accusingly at Harry.

"Is this more magic? I reckon that I might as well get used to it, as long as it doesn't involve me getting turned into anything… So, fire away, Harry."

They beamed at her from above.

"Are you two coming or not?" Tammara teased. "You're slower than Meowiana on a summer day!"

"Coming!" Harry said in reply, and with a _POP_, landed next to where Tammara was standing.

Tammara yelped and jumped backward, just as Hermione appeared, next to Harry, with a frown.

"So sorry to have scared you, Tammara." Harry said, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"It's all good, but you could have dropped a few hints first, if you get my point… Gosh, I feel like I just had a heart attack!"

Hermione punched Harry playfully in the arm. "I told you she'd freak!"

"Oh, come on, you two." Tammara said, grinning as well, and grabbing both their hands. "We'd better get down to lunch, or mum will have my head. Then you can explain what just happened."

After lunch, Hermione and Harry were alone in the living room, since the adults had gone into Mark's study to talk, and Tammara had gone up to her room for a while.

"Harry, what did you just think?"

"Hermione, I though you promised to read my mind _only_ when I asked you to."

"I can't help it that it kicks in unheeded. I don't have a say in that. So, what did you just think about Tammara?"

Harry sighed. "You must have your own ideas about her."

Hermione glared at him. "Harry James Evans Potter! Would you _please_ stop avoiding the question!"

Harry cringed. "How do you always manage to make my full name sound so incriminating?"

Hermione didn't answer, only drummed her fingers on the armchair, in an 'I'm Waiting' gesture.

"Fine, fine." Harry gave in. "It's just that she has something in her eyes, you know… Not only the color, even though you must admit, it's not often you see blue eyes that certain shade. What's it called again?"

"" I don't know what it is. She seems really nice and all, but her eyes are glassy, almost like she's sick or something…"

Hermione was surprised. Harry had never _ever_ noticed that much about a girl before. She doubted that he even knew that much about Ginny, and he had known her since their second year, when he had saved her life.

"Harry, don't you think that it might just be shock? This day has been pretty traumatic for her, you know."

"I've seen people in shock, 'Mione, and Tammara is definitely not in shock. I don't know why or how… but I feel a _connection_ to her, something strong…" _(A/N: he doesn't feel this romantically, but he feels a certain bond with her…) _"It's almost like I know what she's feeling, like I know how Voldemort feels…"

"Maybe it has something to do with the prophecy?"

Harry sighed and rested his head in his hands. "I don't know, Hermione, I don't know."

**A/N: is this shorter than usual? I'm sorry if it is, but I'll try and update soon, if it helps…**

**Now here's a bit of my own magic: click the purple button, say a few words, wait a day or two, and suddenly a new chapter will just show up! Isn't that cool? Try it now!**

**LOL… **

**TaMi**


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